


Against The Storm

by Brinchestiel



Series: Destiel Drabbles, Prompts, One-shots, IDK. [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brinchestiel/pseuds/Brinchestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short drabble written for my dear friend humblesam over on Tumblr, who provided me with the following prompt:<br/>“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Against The Storm

** Against The Storm **

****

The inside of the impala was quiet; one of those moments that made Dean feel a little uneasy somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He was alone, and though it was just a short trip for bunker supplies (the good coffee, a particularly delicious looking blueberry pie amongst other things) he felt that loneliness drape him in a second skin that itched and grated against him, made him grip the steering wheel just a little tighter.

The outside of the impala wasn’t so quiet; thunder rolled like a drum in the distance, lightning flashed like the bursting of a camera bulb. The rain pelted down against the road, bouncing back up off the asphalt. The storm provided just the wrong sort of white noise, the kind that allowed Dean to get lost in his thoughts, which shouted so loudly inside his own head, he completely missed the tell-tale sign of wings.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean cursed under his breath, the impala swerving a little on the thankfully empty stretch of road.

“My apologies,” Castiel amended, voice deadpan as ever. Dean steadied his breathing, flapped his hand in an aborted ‘don’t worry about it’ gesture.

“What’re you doin’ here, Cas?” he asked, glancing briefly at the angel at his side, eyes lingering a moment on the sharp cut of his profile.

Castiel turned his eyes upon Dean with a soft familiarity, a reverence that would have caused Dean no small amount of conflict if he’d caught it.

“I’m just checking in, making sure you’re alright.”

Dean scoffed, “You know me,” gritting his teeth against possible elaborations that threatened to roll of his tongue.  

A beat or two of silence, save for the steady thrum of rain against the roof of the car, passed before Castiel spoke up again.

“Pull over, Dean,”

A shiver Dean would rather leave unexplained ran up his spine, as he obediently slowed his baby down, pulling over beside a field boasting row upon row of towering corn stalks. Dean rubbed the tension from his neck before clearing his throat,

“What’re we doin’, Cas?”

“I’d very much like to feel the rain.”

Dean rolled his eyes up to the top of the windshield and back,

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and… feel the rain?”

“I see no misunderstandings to be had, Dean. I’d like you to accompany me.”

Dean will never understand why, instead of continuing the drive home, he opted for lifting the collar of his jacket snug against the back of his neck before clambering out into the pelting rain.

He turned his face to the rain, letting it wash over the tension lines set in the stone of his forehead, shuddering when the drops roll down the front of his neck, sneak under the neck of his shirt. One moment there was rain steadily soaking through his hair, the next, Castiel had moved to stand unbearably close, and the rain had stopped.

Dean frowned, cracking open a suspicious eye when he discovered he could still hear the rain, but…

Castiel’s lips were turned in a small smile as he watched Dean stretch out his hand to arm’s length, watching fat raindrops fall heavily onto his fingers while his forearm stayed dry.

“What the?”

A presence nudged at his bicep, and it felt as though Castiel was pulling him in closer with his arm. Though, when Dean looked, both of the angels arms were accounted for, hung relaxed at his sides. Dean’s frown deepened, especially when the pulling intensified, almost making him trip into Castiel’s side.

Another flash of lightning, and Dean swore he could see, in that fraction of a second, a looming canopy over his head, draped around his shoulders, curling around his arm.

“Cas-“

Castiel simply nodded, turning his gaze to Dean, swaddled in his wings, as droplets of rain clung to his eyelashes, falling down his cheeks when he blinked. Dean’s hand reached up to catch a drop as it teetered on the edge of the angel’s chin before he’d even told it not to.

The touch prompted a tight squeeze from the invisible wings that sheltered him from the elements, and Castiel lowered his forehead to Dean’s with a whisper of his name.

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean had no idea what he was thankful for, but whatever it was clogged his throat thick as tar.

Whatever reason Dean had to be thankful was all forgotten when he felt the angel’s fingers slip between his own, holding on tight against the storm.


End file.
